Spirit of the woods
by Untamed of Wildwind
Summary: Can a three year old survive by himself in a forest for years? Of course not. But what can happen when the kid's an wizard, and a powerful one at that? You just might get a spirit of the woods...
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The very fact that this is _fanfiction_ should convey this, but I do not in any way own Harry Potter.

**Spirit of the woods**

**Prologue**

**By Untamed of Wildwind**

"Where is your nephew?" the furious old man shouted.

"We got rid of that freakish kid almost two years ago" the almost equally angry, and much fatter, man shouted back.

The neighbours looked at the pair oddly. Then again, it isn't everyday that an old man dressed in a purple _robe_ appears to start a shouting match with one of the more wealthy men in the community.

The old man was called Albus Dumbledore, and he was the headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. The wealthy one was Vernon Dursley, who worked at Grunnings Drills.

By now you've probably figured out what this is all about… the young Harry Potter.

Due to the Dursleys leaving him in the forest, only three years of age, the blood wards protecting the residence of the Dursleys had eventually collapsed.

"You idiots! Don't you even realize what you've done!" the Headmaster exclaimed. "Harry's missing! The blood wards keeping him, and you, I may add, have failed!"

Then an older woman, dressed in a red robe, appeared by the Headmaster.

"Albus" she began.

"What is it?" he asked her, trying to calm himself.

"The tracing spells won't work. I'm afraid… he just might be dead."

After all, a three year old couldn't survive all by himself in a forest for two years…

Or could he?

Author's note:

_Like it? Please review. _

_And by the way, before anyone asks; I'm going to keep writing "Of magic and minds". I've just don't know what to do with it right now…_


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The very fact that this is _fanfiction_ should convey this, but I do not in any way own Harry Potter. 

**Spirit of the woods **

**Chapter 1 **

**By Untamed of Wildwind **

A mad wolf came roaring through the forest. It wasn't hungry, but it was mad with bloodlust and rage. It couldn't find anything to kill.

Then a young man, barely more than a kid, stepped out from the shadows of the trees. He was dressed in a shroud of leaves and flowers, and around him swirled a light greenish mist, which shone with an inner strength. His eyes were all green and shone brightly and he had four arms.

In a language that no human spoke, as it was little more than feelings and thoughts of one that knows no language, the young man gave a single command.

_:Stop: _

The word was much more than that. It conveyed strength, power, and a fierce sharpness, but also calm and understanding. It stopped the wolf in its tracks.

The being, for none purely of mankind could have spoken like that, continued to talk that foreign, yet understandable tongue.

_:Fanged one, why do you run? Were is your pack?: _

The words gave the wolf a sense of calm and acceptance, but also told of curiosity.

The wolf lay down on the ground before the being.

The being looked slightly perplexed, and sent a faint wisp of the green mist to the wolf. The moment the power touched the wolf the being gasped. The mist gathered around him, swirling, and the being stated:

_:I do not know your kind. You are not one of the fanged ones. Yet you are similar to them: _

The wolf didn't answer. That moment the moon went down, beyond the horizon.

The wolf painfully turned into a man, dressed in a robe. He was in a daze, and seemed almost exhausted.

_:You are one of the mad ones, that kill and hurt without reason. Why are you here?: _

The words carried a sharp edge, and a forceful power.

"We're not all like that…" the werewolf whispered, quietly.

Then he passed out.

The being gazed upon the man's unconscious form. _Mayhap the mad one was right. There may be a method to their madness … Even if there wasn't, this one wasn't just a mad one – he was almost a fanged one… _

_Very well. He'd give him his strength back, that wouldn't be hard. Then he'd send him straight back home. _

_Besides, this… odd one… yes, he'd call him an odd one… The odd one might be able to give him understanding of the mad ones… _

The being sent forth a mass of the greenish power to lift, heal and renew the strength of the werewolf. Then closed his eyes, and both of them disappeared in a flash of green.

After that flash, the forest once again lay in darkness.

Remus awoke, but didn't open his eyes. He felt rested. _Strange, I'm not feeling tired at all. Wasn't the last night a full moon? Wait… I'm lying on something hard… Where am I? _

He opened his eyes, seeing the ceiling of a cave. He slowly sat up, and looked around. He immediately saw the boy/man sitting beside him, dressed in a shroud of leaves and flowers. There was no smell from the boy, but that of the greenery he was clad in. _What in the world?_

Then he saw his eyes, the four arms, and realized: _This is not a man, but something else… _

"What are you?" Remus asked.

_:I was going to ask you the same, odd one: _The being stated in a strange language, not heard, but felt at the very core of what was Remus. The being hadn't moved his lips.

The wolf in him seemed to understand it as well, perhaps even better.

The words had conveyed some amusement, and a lot of curiosity to Remus.

"How…?" Remus interrupted himself. "What I am? I'm a wizard… well, I suppose I'm a werewolf…"

_:What is a wizard, and a werewolf?:_ The being asked.

_He haven't heard of wizards? This will be a long talk…_

They had talked for quite some time, and both had gained a better understanding of each other. Remus had told the being what a wizard, a muggle, and a werewolf was. He realized that he'd run into the being just as he was about to turn back to a wizard.

When the being had started to tell Remus of what he did, Remus had realized that he was some kind of a spirit of the woods, maybe even the master of it. He certainly was no normal magical creature, that was for sure. The spirit apparently had no real body; the one he had now was pretty much incorporeal, though he could make it solid if he so wished to.

Remus was a bit upset when he learned that the spirit had no name of his own. For now, he'd just call him Spirit.

After Remus explanations about humans and their behaviour, Spirit asked Remus not to tell any of "the mad ones" about him. He didn't want anyone he didn't trust to know, and Remus agreed. It was all too likely that the ministry would do something stupid…

Remus promised to come back to talk to Spirit again, as soon as he could.

At last he had a pack, if but of one person. The wolf was pleased.

A few years had passed since their first meeting. Remus had never told anyone of Spirit.

Today Spirit looked a little apprehensive.

_:Remus: _he said.

The word was so much more that just a name. It was a word that spoke in Remus' very self, making it shout: "That's me! I'm here!" Remus was used to it, but it was still a little overwhelming.

"What is it, Spirit?" he asked.

_:I've made a decision. I want to go to your Hogwarts, to get a deeper understanding of your kind: _

The words themselves told Remus this was a very thought-through decision.

"I'll make the necessary arrangements with the Headmaster, then. What shall I tell him?" Remus wondered.

_:I will be Spirit Woods, first year, so to better understand your world: _Spirit had decided. _:Let us discuss what will be needed:_

"We got a season to fix all that is needed" Remus said. "School starts in the beginning of fall"

_:I know: _

And that said it all, as Spirit's language always did. That was one of the things they had to take care of… Spirit needed to talk like a normal person at Hogwarts.

It had been hard to get Dumbledore to accept an unknown person into the school, but as Remus vouched for him, Spirit was allowed to go. The disguising of Spirit as a normal wizard had been but a matter of practise; he'd have to avoid the _finite incantatem_-spell though, as to not risk someone breaking his disguise.

Finding a wand without going to Diagon Alley had been harder, and in the end Spirit had made it himself, from the root of an old, magical tree. He'd refused to say anything more about the making of his slightly strange wand.

The disguising magic hadn't been well enough practised, but two days before the departure for Hogwarts.

The few things necessary, to get from Diagon Alley, Remus had bought for Spirit. He'd have to sell some rare things from the forest, supplied by Spirit, to pay for it. One such thing he'd bought was Spirit's course books.

He'd also had to teach Spirit to read. He had learned it now, but didn't really like reading. He still read very slowly. Remus thought it had to do with the way Spirit normally read people; he understood their feelings, and to and extent, their thoughts.

Tomorrow Spirit would stand at King's Cross station, to take the Hogwarts Express to the school.

Spirit was pulling his trunk along the platform. _Let's see… nine and three quarters… That would be between nine and… ten, that's it! Annoying numbers… _

He saw platform nine and platform ten. _Eh? Where is the one in between? _

Spirit looked around. Then he saw it: One of the walls that held the roof up was brimming with magical energy. It looked like some kind of portal. That was probably it.

He walked towards it, pulling the trunk along, and just as he stepped in front of the portal a redheaded boy with a trunk ran into him, pushing them both through the portal.

"Eh, I'm sorry…" the boy said.

"It is ok" Spirit said. "I am not hurt. Are you?"

"No… I'm not." The boy's mood seem to lift a bit. "I'm Ron Weasly. Who are you?"

"Call me Spirit" Spirit said. Then he remembered to give a last name. "Spirit Woods"

A pair of redheaded boys had just appeared from the portal.

"Spirit Woods…" the first began.

"…pleased to meet you" the other finished.

"I'm Fred" one said.

"And I'm George" the other stated.

"We're the brother's of this runt" Fred said.

"Hey, I'm not a runt!" Ron exclaimed.

"Time to board the train" a voice shouted from another part of the platform. "We're leaving soon."

Fred and George ran over to some friend of theirs.

Spirit lifted his trunk aboard the train, and together with Ron he sat down in an empty compartment.

"So who are you, Spirit?" Ron asked, curiously.

"I might tell you, one day." Spirit answered.

Ron was startled by a brief flash of green. When he looked back to Spirit, it was already gone, though.

"Mysterious, eh?" Ron asked. "Well, I won't pry. Have you got an animal with you?"

"No"

_This Ron is a little annoying… I think I'll rest for a while. _

"I'll sleep for a while" Spirit said. Then he went to sleep.

Author's note:

_Well, what do you think? Any good? _

_Spirit is Harry, of course. No one knows that, though. _


End file.
